


Destroy Me Now and Love Me Later

by Miko_Doll



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014), Big Hero 6: The Series (Cartoon)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bc I don't know the difference alright?, Canon Compliant, Did I mention kissing? Bc there's a lot of kissing, Hiro's a sensation junkie, Hurt and comfort, Like really slow, M/M, Obake/Hiro, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Underage Kissing, but not Hiro or Obake, dependent relationship, he's not an OC but I don't wanna tag him to avoid confusion, hibake, hirobake, implied eating disorder, it counts as unhealthy right?, not-so-romantic relationship but not-really-platonic either, other male character/Hiro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-09-22 02:55:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17051723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miko_Doll/pseuds/Miko_Doll
Summary: Hiro didn't love danger or have a death wish. So he didn't think of Obake, of the goose bumps adorned his skin when he felt the man's eyes on him, of the change of beats on his heart when the man challenged him, or of the anticipation he felt to the unspoken promise of thrill on the villain's mere presence. Hiro certainly did not love Obake.





	1. Make Me Feel

**Author's Note:**

> Actually, I'm in the middle of writing another hidashi fic and planning on making a series out of two old hidashi fics I've written. But then, I watched the final episode of BH6 the series and just FUCK OBAKE AND HIRO SHOULD KISS, and boom, this idea appeared. I have to write this.
> 
> Before you ask, yes, that Jack is actually Jack Frost from Rise of the Guardian bc I ship Hiro and Jack so bad. That's why I don't want to tag him bc this is not a crossover. Just, imagine him as a lanky punk with bleached hair, alright?
> 
> Yes, Hiro is underage and Obake is probably as old as his dad, but I love age difference relationship, alright? So don't read this if this makes you uncomfortable.
> 
> I will try my damnedest to write regularly TT_TT I'm aiming for one chapter a month, so bear with me.
> 
> Special thanks to Rue (who read the first two chapters) and to Onna (who read the initial version of the story)
> 
> I apologize in advance if there's any grammatical error. 
> 
> Happy reading~~

When Hiro first knew GoGo, he thought they were similar. Maybe, he thought, they sought the same sensation. The thought lingered even after the fire, after the depression, after the almost-revenge, after registering to school, after continuing the hero business and facing new enemies. So, when he stayed late at lab and found her sleeping at her station, after waiting for her to get ready and was walking to the parking lot, he asked her: "What do you feel when you were speeding up through the city?"

 

GoGo smiled a little, a glint in her eyes. Hiro thought he might be right. "I love the feel of the wind and the rushing sound I hear as I zap through the streets. I like the challenge, the excitement. I live for the exhilarating invincibility I feel."

 

Hiro hummed but didn't reply. He thought of schools, of shady alleys, of Baymax's flashing red eyes.

 

It was not the same.

 

* * *

 

Hiro felt someone was watching him lately, the kind of feeling you felt when someone was looking at tour phone over your shoulder in a cramped bus. The weird part was, he felt it every time he was in his supersuit, patrolling the night away. When he mentioned it to his friends, they didn't share his concern.

 

"Many people are staring at us when we're in our supersuits. I'm sure that's why," Honey said, and the others unanimously agreed.

 

Hiro thought that way at first, too. He thought it was normal, people stared at them when they were in their supersuits. But after so many nights feeling the tingle on his nape and back, he was sure this was different from the ordinary celebrity-staring. This one was piercing and intense, like a predator hiding behind bushes and eyeing their prey. What made it weird was the fact that this stare felt like they were observing with scientific interest and malicious intent. It made Hiro felt like he was an amoeba under observation.

 

Even now, as he and Baymax rushed above San Fransokyo night life, zigzagging through the gnarly skyscrapers, keeping an eye for trouble caused by supervillains and your everyday criminals alike, he felt the eyes following him. Alongside him was Fred who was super-jumping from rooftop to rooftop, howling on top of his lungs the new theme song of Big Hero 6 he had made up on the spot. He was so loud Hiro was tempted to mute him out.

 

Fred landed on one rooftop as he ended the epic song with an off tune falsetto. "Seems like a peaceful night to me," he declared. From his voice alone, Hiro knew Fred was pleased with it, with the mundane, quiet city, absent from shriek of horror and cackle of evil. The younger one was almost surprised.

 

Out of them, Fred was the one who was so hellbent on continuing the superhero business, firmly believed the city was at risk of imminent attack from a diabolical supervillain. He was often so disappointed when the criminals and supervillains seemed to have a night off, saying things like: "What the hell the criminals of this city doing? Locking themselves in their room and having Netflix and chill all alone?"

 

Hiro was always, _always,_ silently agree with him, wondering the same thing, feeling the same frustration clawing at him. After GoGo was off the list, he thougt Fred was the one who shared the same interest as him. Hiro almost felt betrayed.

 

It was not the same. _It was not the same._

 

Fred threw the mask back and grinned at Hiro who was floating not far from him on Baymax' back. "What do ya say, buddy? Ready to call it a night and go home?"

 

Hiro didn't reply but hummed as if considering going home and and having unsatisfactory sleep and waking up unsatisfied. He stared at an empty, dark alley as if something would magically happen if he stared enough. Nothing happened. Hiro pretended not to feel the disappointment. His mind wandered to when he walked alone in one of those shady alleyways, fighting bot on one pocket, a wad of cash on the other. He pushed the memory back to his unconsciousness.

 

"Yeah," he said cheerfully, "let's go home. Nothing bad happened today."

 

But nothing good did either.

 

Hiro tried not to think about the itch he felt under his skin as he sped home, commanding Baymax to use full thrust, precariously dodging buildings only when they were a hairbreadth away from colliding, cracking his skull open, and splattering his brain on the asphalt. They tore through San Fransokyo night sky, somersaulting in the air, pulling sharp turns at precarious angles, speeding up in alleys so narrow Baymax had to tilt his body and Hiro's helmet grazed the walls. They broke free to an opening, and a car, probably driven by drunk highschool students who thought they were immortals, honked at them but didn't slow down at all.

 

His dreams flashed before his eyes. Hiro felt out-of-body experience as he saw himself and Baymax from third person point of view. The car collided into Baymax and the bot tried to bodily reduce the impact of the collision so Hiro and the dumbfuck of teenagers inside the car wouldn't be severely injured. However, because fate was cruel and forgiving, the impact disconnected Hiro's magnetic pads and sent him flying several feet away, crashing and rolling on the asphalt before a tram ran over him, spilling his pink brain and wasted IQ everywhere.

 

Seconds before they clashed, Baymax straightened up and skyrocketed with a loud boom, putting a stop to Hiro's illusion and pulling his soul back to his body. Up in the air, where they were so high that falling from such height would guarantee death, Baymax stopped and blinked once. "Hiro, are you alright?"

 

Hiro, panting and pulse racing so fast he might have cardiac arrest, suppressed a maniacal roar of laughter which threatened to burst out of his mouth and broke through the barricade of his lips. The sensation made his nerves roaring so loud his skin tingled and limbs trembled. Unable to suppress a grin so wide, grateful that Baymax couldn't see him, Hiro calmly answered: "Yeah... I'm fine."

 

Buzzing with the delicious sensation, Hiro felt the stranger's gaze intensified and he involuntarily shivered in delight. Every fiber of his being was a choir of _come and get me,_ so loud and almost frantic.

 

Hiro thought of his comfortable bed and dreamless deep sleeps, hoping future days would be as thrilling as today. He arrived home and pretended not to feel the tingle of the sensation he refused to name under his skin and not to hear the scream of not enough, not enough, _not enough._

 

* * *

 

Hiro didn't remember when he felt the sensation for the first time. He initially thought it was started when school got difficult and frustrating. However, when he slept, he sometimes dreamt of rushing landscapes, sudden and violent jerk, of being somersaulted and thrown into arbitrary directions in a claustrophobic space, of loud noises and red, scorching heat. That dream jolted him awake, body soaked in cold sweat and trembling like it was in the middle of winter and he forgot to turn on the heater.

 

Upon awakening, he felt the sensation. So tangible and overwhelming it kept him awake for hours and made him giddy for the rest of the day. Confusing his brother and aunt. Hiro concluded, the sensation had been part of him since before school and popular kids playing pretend kings and queens and thinking they have the right to demean other kids deemed lesser than them. School only rekindled the spark and nurtured it.

 

The dream was almost constant during those days. Then abated when graduation had passed and bot-fighting started, occuring again when Tadashi put a stop to the illegal activity and distracted him with inventions and plans to impress Callaghan. Then, Tadashi died, and the dream never stopped ever since. Fortunately, the number of frequency had reduced from often to seldom since he started school and hero business, but it was still there, lingering at the back of his mind like the aftertaste of Tadashi's too strong mouthwash.

 

The sensation haunted him in dreams when not satisfied and tormented him with _not enough_ when ignored.

 

* * *

 

Sometime before dawn, Hiro gasped awake. His body was soaked in sweat, trembling and tingling with the sensation, and his breath was short and labored. Hiro pushed himself to a sitting position, run his hand down his face, wiping the sweats and fatigue away as he shutting his eyes to deny the sensation.

 

"Hiro," a voice called in the middle of darkness, surprising him and making him flinched. He looked up, it was just Baymax. The nurse bot commenting about his accelerated heart rate and labored breath. "Are you alright?"

 

Hiro shook his head and smiled weakly, "I'm having a weird dream. That's all."

 

"Are you having a nightmare?"

 

Nightmare? No. This wasn't a nightmare. Nightmares didn't make you wanted to grin from ear to ear and laugh deliriously. Nightmares didn't feel like this. Nightmares were dreaming of Tadashi running to a blazing building which exploded seconds after he entered it and Hiro was helpless and devastated and despairing. This was no nightmare.

 

"No," he whispered pensively, "just... a normal dream."

 

Define normal, he thought wryly.

 

* * *

 

Despite what Aunt Cass' and Tadashi's opinion about Hiro, who was young and none the wiser, he knew what he had wasn't normal. So he tried his best to tone it down or find another less harmful way to experience the sensation. However, suppressing shit only resulted in the increase of sensation-filled dreams. Although the dreams engulfed him in the sensation, they disturbed his already short sleep, made him more tired than usual, and Granville wasn't happy about him sleeping in her class. The other professors weren't happy either but, unlike Granville who was nagging and scolding and threatening to take his permission to Tadashi’s previous personal lab, they were content on leaving him alone. He got good results at the very least.

 

On the other hand, being a lazy bum did have its benefit. Other students, who got in SFIT by doing their damnedest, were glaring at him with blatant envy and hatred. Hiro was back in highschool again with all eyes on him: hating, ignoring, degrading, leering, and damning. The only difference was there was no one ballsy enough (or perhaps mean enough) to land the first punch. They all were nerds, anyway, schoolworks and GPA were way of more importance than wasting time kicking some loser genius's ass.

 

His friends voiced out their concerns, worrying about his obvious disinterest in most of the classes, his darkened eye bags, and his slightly dropping grades as a result of his bad attitude in class, not to mention the evident silent hostility other students emanated towards him. Hiro, smug and cocky, rolled his eyes when he was confronted about it again one day at lunch. “I’m just… sleepy because, you know, we’ve been out almost every night,” he reasoned.

 

“Well, okay, I get it.” Gogo leaned on her hands which were folded on the table. “Then we should make a schedule about who goes on night patrol and who doesn’t.”

 

Honey nodded, “That sounds good. That way, you won’t be sleepy in classes everyday, Hiro.”

 

Wasabi pulled out a note and a pen before beginning to write down their night patrol shifts. Hiro protested, of course. He needed that night patrol as an excuse to taste a little bit of sensation by chasing and fighting criminals, or, when the nights were hatefully peaceful, by zigzagging through the city at an incredible speed, pulling the topsy-turvy rollercoaster stunts before going home with heartbeat so escalated Baymax was so worried. The gang, even Fred, looked funny at his protestation.

 

“That’s not necessary, I love going on night patrol every night,” Hiro reasoned, “It helps me clear my mind.”

 

“But everybody starts to hate you, Hiro,” Wasabi said, glancing around the cafeteria, to the students who glared hatefully at Hiro. “You are everyone’s enemy now. If this is a normal school, you’ll be bullied in no time.”

 

“Well, it’s not like I don’t know that I have this innate hate-me cells which makes everyone hates and bullies me everywhere I go!” Hiro snapped, then, at the shocked looks of his friends, he caught himself. He looked away and rubbed his arm, a trait he did whenever he felt guilty. Yet, this time, he didn’t feel like apologizing. The lack of sleep and sensation was really bad for his decision-taking mechanism. “I’m used to it.” He didn’t say he kind of fantasized about being bullied by college students on daily basis.

 

GoGo looked at Honey, telepathically told the chem-crazed girl to say something motivational to the SFIT’s youngest student. “We’re sorry, Hiro.” Honey started. Hiro was tempted to just walk away, to just fuck it all and have a go at the Good Luck alley with Megabot which was collecting dust beside his computer at home. “We’re just worried. We knew that you were... we knew about your past school’s history. Tadashi told us and he wanted us to help you. We want to help, Hiro, we didn’t want you to have a bad time at school.”

 

At the mention of Tadashi wanting Hiro to have a good experience at school, Hiro’s fuming mind stopped and cooled down before numbing. Tadashi. They always used Tadashi against him. Aunt Cass, Baymax, Granville, and now his friends used Tadashi's name like a damn spell or a stop button to prevent him from being malfunctioned as a civilized human being. “Tadashi” stopped him from being reckless at school, “Tadashi” made him walked the right path, “Tadashi” inspired him to be better, to not craving for such sensation. “Tadashi” was the word people could use to stop him doing questionable things and make him behave. Yet, even Tadashi didn’t know what Hiro needed. He just knew the little brother needed to be bound with a leash, to make sure he didn’t succumb and feed the starving monster inside.

 

But Hiro loved Tadashi and didn’t want to disappoint him. So he gritted his teeth and grudgingly agreed to the night patrol shift schedule.

 

Hiro felt like screaming.

 

* * *

 

Auspiciously, the crime-fighting game stepped up its level slightly, much to Hiro's relief. Supervillains started to, or at least tried to, wreak havoc in San Fransokyo: High Voltage, Globby, Baron Von Steamer, and Momokase. Hiro was happy every time they had to deal with supervillain because it meant the shift schedule was annuled and he could patrol every night until the case was closed. He had hoped those supervillains that were yet to be apprehended would regularly make trouble, and hoped new supervillains would come and play with him.

 

No such luck was bestowed on Hiro. Days were so dull and repetitive and hatefully peaceful. Even worse, the dreams wouldn't stop. He still woke up in the middle of the night, sweating and trembling, overwhelmed by the pseudo sensation which made his heart thumped like it was on steroids. He tried to stay awake in classes, though, in fear his friends would prohibit him from going to night patrol in order to fix his reputation at school.

 

This surface improvement seemed to please the professors and simmered down the other students' ire. Which was great for his friends assessment of him, but bad for the famished monster under his skin. Several guys were still holding hostility in their eyes and vibrating with the urge to punch Hiro's smug (more like disinterest, but if you hated someone, everything they did seem wrong) face. Sometimes, Hiro wished they would just dragged him into some isolated storage and get done with it. But nooo they all cared about their grade too much and Hiro wasn't worth the trouble.

 

To add, he kept feeling the stranger's watchful eyes during his night patrol shift, scrutinizing and observing without _doing anything worthwhile._ True being watched like that excited him and the sensation monster since there was a high possibility that this stranger was a supervillain who was up to blasphemy. However, it was meaningless if what they do was just watch. When Hiro's patience was on the edge, he sometimes wished he could just busted this person, grabbed his collar, and spat at them to _fucking do something or leave me the fuck alone._ This exasperated the teen genius to no end.

 

The exasperation transformed the choir of _not enough_ into a full blown concert of _fucking hell_. The concert was too clamorous in his head Hiro had to buried his head in Baymax' fluffy tummy and screamed a muffled shriek to keep his sanity intact. When the bot asked, he said he was frustrated by too much assignments, which, in actuality, were as mind-numbingly mundane as the days.

 

After the mundane days were too much, after night patrols were too uneventful, after watching countless of thrillers and horror movies so tense Aunt Cass commented about having a heart attack and started to pick tooth achingly sweet romance movies, Hiro had had enough. He grabbed his roller skates from his high school days, stomped downstairs, bellowed an excuse he didn't remember to Aunt Cass, then bolted out of the door like the café was on fire and about to explode and Hiro had to outrun the grim reaper who was mad that the young and stupid human had cheated him.

 

* * *

 

Hiro arrived at Ito Ishioka building two hours later, cheeks flushed, heart raced, ears rung with _FASTER FASTER FASTER,_ and skin prickled with the sensation. He didn't know why he ended up at SFIT. When he snapped out of his reverie, he was standing in front of the gate, panting and wheezing.

 

The teen rolled inside, maneuvered inside the building he knew by heart, made a beeline to the personal lab of his friends. He opened the door and found the four of them were huddling over a blueprint. Upon hearing his arrival, they turned their attention to Hiro and were pleasantly surprised.

 

"Hiro! What're you doing here?"

 

"Where's Baymax?"

 

"You got a pair of roller skates?"

 

"Why don't you wear protective gears?"

 

Hiro smiled hesitantly, unsure why he felt awkward all of a sudden. "Hey guys, I was just feeling like skating today. Left Baymax at home cuz he's charging. I forgot where I put those gears, but don't worry, Wasabi, I'm fine." He didn't tell them he never had protective gears, didn't tell them he was almost hit by cars twice, didn't tell them the dangerous alleys and shortcuts he used, didn't tell them he imagined broken ankle, scrapped knees and elbows, or cracked skulls.

 

"Good timing, though!" Fred draped a hand around Hiro's shoulders before tugging him close until they were cheek to cheek. "We just ordered pizza!"

 

"You did? Sweet!" Hiro grinned toothily.

 

They returned their attention back to the blueprint which actually belong to Wasabi. Happy to be distracted from his screaming mind, Hiro concentrated on the scientific discussion, conjuring up all of his knowledge and poured the most useful ones out. He even wrote down some equations which would be a possible solution for Wasabi, earning everyone's adoration and respect.

 

Twenty minutes later, the door was knocked and Fred happily announced the arrival of the scrumptious pizza. Hiro was still focused on a heated discussion with Wasabi when a voice he hadn't heard for a year and half said his name in wonder and hesitancy, stopping his mind from working, interrupting his train of thoughts.

 

Heart skipped a beat in anticipation, Hiro turned around to the source of the voice and saw the older version of the punk he used to hang out with back in high school: "Jack." Hiro exhaled.

 

Jack was the same as the last time Hiro saw him a year and half ago: bleached hair, too wan complexion, lanky figure, eyes filled with mischievous glint. The older teen smirked at Hiro, a smirk that scream bad news and trouble and sensation-filled days. Hiro smirked back.

 

* * *

 

 

"You okay?" Jack asked, lighting a cigarette which smelled like pot. They were in front of the door, just outside the lab where his friends were eating pizza. If any one of them walked out, or if Granville caught them, Hiro was done for. Yet, there was something about being found out that made him almost giddy. "About your brother, I mean."

 

Jack exhaled and white fog flew from his lips. Hiro inhaled deeply, remembering the consequences of second-hand smoking. "Yeah, I'm good."

 

"So you really did get into this nerd school. Congrats, man." The older teen lightly bumped Hiro with his fist.

 

Hiro noticed that his friend was thinner than he remembered, almost anorexic. He frowned. "You okay?" Hiro asked, grabbing Jack's wrist, reminiscing to the feel of his protruded ribs under his fingers.

 

Jack inhaled the pot before blowing the smoke directly on Hiro's face. The young prodigy inhaled almost instinctively. "No. But I'll live." He shrugged as Hiro thought of corpses on a dump in some odious alley, about Tadashi in a burning building, about wasted youth, vigor, and brilliance. Jack eyed the roller skates Hiro was still wearing. "Still like to go wild with those little devils?"

 

Hiro run his hand through his unruly hair. Jack knew about the monster, the sensation, and the urge. The white-haired teen had a monster of a different kind, his own demon to defeat, so he understood most of Hiro's problem. Hiro remembered the day when he was beaten in the backyard and Jack was sitting on a tree branch, watching him while smoking and drinking beer. He went to Jack's flat afterwards, letting the older teen tended to his bruises and cooked him dinner. "I quit botfighting and am bored to death." He reasoned.

 

Jack rolled his eyes, "Whatever, man."

 

They talked for a while, then exchanged numbers. They should've been done so earlier, back when they were still in uniform. Yet, back then, it seemed unnecessary. Hiro didn't believe in friendship and Jack was just didn't care. They didn't want to cling to one another; knowing that there was someone out there who understood was more than enough.

 

Before he left, Jack inhaled what left of his cigarette, tugged Hiro close, kissed him fiercely and transferred the cancerous smoke to his lungs. Hiro coughed and gasped, tried to push Jack away and inhaled fresh air. Yet, Hiro remembered their silent mutual understanding several years ago, so the hand that was intended to push Jack away fisted the older teen's sleeve. Jack held Hiro tight, forcing the young prodigy to taste him, his sickness, his madness, his twisted mind, and his short life. Hiro's heart hammered against his ribcage, nerves came alive and the sensation engulfed him. He felt dizzy and breathless and so fucking great.

 

Jack let him go, smirking and walking away, making a call me gesture before turning right and disappear from Hiro's vision.

 

Hiro slept dreamlessly that night.

 

* * *

 

After several uneventful days, something abruptly changed.

 

That week was a rollercoaster. First, Hiro was beyond exhilarated when saving Krei for Mad Jacks. The criminal group was really challenging and by the time he was finished, Hiro was tingling with sensation. He was so looking forward to face them again, so Hiro was exasperated when he caught cold and had to stay home. The urgency to taste the sensation made him sneaked out with Tadashi's bike. That, on itself, was suspense enough, as he wasn't old enough to ride a motorcycle around the town and he couldn't stop thinking of outrunning the police if he happened to encounter one.

 

Then, one of the Mad Jacks tore him out of his motorcycle, so high up he could feel his stomach lurched, and got dumped in an odious dumpster. As a consequence, he got fractured legs. That injury permanently outed him from hero game. On the other hand, it ignited his genius creativity. If he couldn't taste the sensation directly, he would do it indirectly. The SuperHiro bot was the result of it. It worked wonderfully: he didn't have to risk breaking another limbs but he could taste the pseudo sensation.

 

After defeating Mad Jacks, saving Krei, and regaining whatever pricey chip he afforded from the black market, something changed. That very night, Hiro's skin prickled and goosebumps erupted on his skin. He felt it, someone was watching him in his room, scrutinizing him from head to toe. It sent chills and sensation down his spine.

 

Heart racing and breath shortening in suspense, Hiro swept his gaze around his room, trying to figure out where this stare was coming from. There was no one outside the window, in Tadashi's side of the room, or near the staircase. So where were they watching him from?

 

From Tadashi's side, he heard the window was broken. Hiro gasped in apprehension and surprise. He grabbed a baseball bat beside his bed as the stranger crunched the glassed beneath their feet and advanced to Hiro's side. The bigger the stranger's shadow become, the louder his heart pounded. His skin prickled and adrenaline rushed in his vein.

 

Hiro gritted his teeth and was ready to smash the stranger's skull open the moment--

 

"Hiro."

 

Baymax stepped out of the darkness in his red supersuit. The bot blinked at the injured teen and his bat, uncomprehending as to why the teen wanted to play baseball in a small room.

 

Hiro shuddered out the breath he was holding. "Baymax?"

 

Baymax blinked again. "You appear to be in—“

 

"You scared me half to death!" Hiro snapped, masking unreasonable disappointment as inexplicable burst of anger. He threw the bat on the floor in fury, taking out the bottled up nervous energy by bullying the innocent bat and floor. Covering his face with both shaky hands, he endeavored to calm his nerves and restored his heartbeat to normal by taking long series of inhale and exhale.

 

"I am sorry for causing distress," Baymax said. His sound was a murmur behind the sound of his pounding heart and ragged breath.

 

After he had somewhat calmed, he raised his head at the healthcare companion and smiled tiredly, "It's ok." Hiro ran a hand through his hair. "I'm just... overly anxious because—“ Hiro halted, eyes widening. The watchful eyes's presence was nowhere to be felt. He looked around the room as though looking for a person he thought he knew in the crowds. Yet, in the crowd of things cluttered in his room, he found nothing.

 

"Hiro," the bot called his name questioningly and blinked, "is everything alright?"

 

Hiro finally looked at Baymax, bewildered. "Yeah..." he said, unsure, "I'm... fine..."

 

Hiro couldn't sleep that night. Although he knew he wasn't being watched anymore, his mind was telling him otherwise, convincing him there were countless of eyes hiding in the shadows. He fantasized of assassin hiding behind the divider, in the bathroom, or under his bed, waiting for the perfect moment to cut Hiro's throat open in his sleep, letting the boy gurgled helplessly as blood endlessly flowed to stain his bedsheet.

 

* * *

 

In the morning, Hiro felt the eyes again. They were there as he woke up, had breakfast, tried to write a report last minutes, even when he get dressed. Hiro blushed furiously in shame and anger when he felt the eyes raking his lean body, caressing his exposed skin. The eyes followed his every footsteps, stalking him everywhere he went, making him paranoid, unsafe, and uncomfortable in his own skin. This continued for days, weeks, and Hiro was deeply concerned, and, though he didn't want to admit it, thrilled.

 

It was different when the eyes only watched him when he was in supersuit. Sure, it was creepy, but it meant the creep didn't know who Hiro was. Now the stranger somehow knew. They knew who Hiro was and his secret. And he had no way of knowing who this person was. Ordering Baymax to scan his surrounding was useless, either there were too many people or no one at all. In other words, they could stab Hiro any time and he was utterly defenseless.

 

"Someone is watching me these days."

 

Hiro told Jack one night, sitting on the edge of a building's rooftop, dangling their legs back and forth while eating kebabs and drinking Slurpee’s. To be exact, Hiro was the one drinking and eating, Jack was sipping mineral water and nibbling the lettuce from his kebabs. It took Hiro kissing the corner of his lips and hotly whispering in his ears: "You're gorgeous. And irresistibly hot when you're eating kebab." for Jack to finally eat his kebab properly, albeit slowly.

 

"A stalker?" Jack licked the sauce smeared on his thumb.

 

Hiro, looking down, absentmindedly calculated the acceleration of his fall, conjured up Newton's formula of impact to know how severe the damage would be when he crashed the asphalt. "I guess? I don't feel their presence, only their eyes." He looked over his shoulder, no one was behind them. Stroking his nape to abate the goosebumps, Hiro sighed. "Even now I feel them."

 

Jack finished his kebab and lighted a cig, he smoked a normal cigarette this time. "Have you told your friends? They are older than you, legal adults and all. Ask them to protect you."

 

"I can't. They have done so much for me." Hiro looked up to the starless night sky. "I never do anything for them. Feels like I'm just using them."

 

"That's what friends are for."

 

Hiro snorted, incredulous, "No, they're not."

 

"Well, you are to me." Jack smirked, easy and challenging. Hiro rolled his eyes. "Then, what do you feel about this stalking?"

 

The younger teen's eyes widened at the question, knowing what Jack was implying. Hiro flushed and looked away, gripping the back of his neck again as he tried to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. He thought of the way the eyes stared at him: with intense scientific interest and curiosity, a ghostly caress on his exposed skin. Closing his eyes, he pretended the lurch in his stomach caused by the watchful eyes, which intensified as seconds passed, was actually unease and not something else.

 

* * *

 

Days passed and Rivalry Week happened. Saying Hiro was excited to take part in the nerd school mischief was an understatement. He was exalted. After days of infuriating peace, something fun finally happened. Besides, he was more than willing to distract himself from constantly sensing the watchful eyes.

 

At first, things went well. Sneaking into SFAI was surprisingly easy yet still challenging and thrilling. Not to mention they discovered a secret underground lab in Lenore Shimamoto's house. Despite disappointingly failed to steal Shimamoto's statue, they managed to discover something big.

 

Things went downhill when Honey lost Shimamoto's journal which she stole from the secret lab. In the middle of panicking, she finally remembered leaving her SFIT id in the journal as a bookmark. They tracked down the GPS in the id and found themselves in front of a secluded, abandoned warehouse. They barged in, surrounded the man who was comfortably sitting and perusing a stolen journal as if this was an ordinary lazy day to read an entertaining book. The moment Hiro landed his eyes on the man, he was stunned, awestruck.

 

After weeks of being watched and wondering who the owner of the eyes was, Hiro finally found him: The man who watched him from the shadows. The villain glanced at him for a millisecond and Hiro's nerves were screaming like mad. The teen let out a shuddering breath as he drinking in the man's profile: tall and skinny, long and bony fingers, too pale skin, sharp nose, high cheekbones, piercing pale blue eyes: ruthless and emotionless.

 

"Welcome, Big Hero 6. I hoped you'd locate me more quickly. Disappointing." The villain said. Hiro's ears were graced with condescending tone delivered in sophisticated accent. It was glorious, a gentleman with deranged sense of moral. Honey confronted the man, yet the young prodigy couldn't listen to anything beyond the clamor of _come and GET ME._

 

"Hey... Uh... Who are you?" Hiro nervously asked, hoping he would answer but praying to whatever deities he wouldn't.

 

The man ignored Hiro. "I only need one more minute, which is perfect, because that's all you have." He pushed a button under the desk and three giant metal boxes fell upon the Big Hero 6.

 

Hiro was, obviously, trapped inside the dark box with Baymax. His heart did an impressive somersault when the light in the box turned on and he found himself inside a replica of his own bedroom. It was in 1:1 scale with immaculate details, from his bed to the posters on the wall, and even the maze of his desk. "Well, this is creepy," Hiro said as he suppressed a crazed smile and giddy laugh. His entire body thrummed with pleasant electrical energy.

 

Water started to flow into the closed space like a waterfall in a speed that guaranteed death by drowning in less than a minute. Hiro ordered Baymax to punch a hole on the steel wall even though he knew it would be futile. The man was way too smart to not predict what Hiro would attempt after spying said teen for months. Hiro bit the inside of his mouth to prevent a smile from adorning his face.

 

When the water was almost higher than his height, he climbed Baymax back to delay the inevitable drowning. The moment the water reached his neck, Hiro almost couldn't help but smile maniacally, a dozen dose of sensation ran through his system. This man was seriously gonna kill Hiro, gonna end his life, gonna squeeze the breath out of his lungs.

 

Hiro was _always_ up to the challenge. After Honey gave a hint, he knew what he had to do and successfully solve the villain's riddle, he had cheated death designed by the man. He got out of the metal box last, all of his friends were already on their battle mode stance, ready to pounce the snobbish bastard and arrested him in the name of justice. Oh, if only they knew that all Hiro wanted was let the man go in hope for more thrills.

 

Ekabo smiled down at them, clearly unimpressed with their feat. "Clever and creative. Now, I'm mildly impressed." Hiro almost beg to differ.

 

"Why are you doing this?" someone asked. Hiro didn't pay much attention to his friends, wholly focused on the posh villain before him, trying to bask the throes of sensation the man's dark aura caused on him.

 

"Let's call that one more riddle to solve. Perhaps for next time." With a snap of his fingers, the light went out.

 

Hiro blinked several times, desperately trying to let his eyes adjust to the darkness. A pair of eyes glowed in the dark, icy blue met dark brown, and time stopped flowing. Hiro's breath halted, eyes unblinking. Nerves on fire, the air hummed, skin itched and fingers twitched in anticipation, mind a religious whisper of _come at me and let me feel_.

 

This was warzone, this was disaster, this was catastrophe. A landmine of wrong choices stretched between him and a hypnotizing fatamorgana of Eden garden with the lucrative tree of knowledge in the middle: one step forward and he would burst into million gory pieces of sin and regret.

 

And Hiro, enthralled by those malicious blue eyes, almost took a step forward.

 

The left side of the man's face glowed purple and dimmed secondarily. When the lights were on, he was gone. Hiro breathed again, shallow and almost uncontrollable. His eyeballs skittered here and there, frantically searching for the man.

 

"Wuh--where did he go?" Hiro sputtered, on the brink of screaming and demanding to locate the man this fucking instant because Hiro needs--

 

"Check the rooftop!" Fred shouted. So they boarded Baymax and rocketed skyward, busted the roof to find nothing.

 

"Who was that guy?" he asked to no one in particular, mildly disappointed for no particular reason. His question was answered by a page in the journal.

 

Written on it was a promise and a name: "Until next time. Obake."

 

Hiro tried the name, "Obake," it sounded like beautiful mayhem.

 

* * *

 

 

The eyes continued to stalk him on daily basis, every single second of his waking and sleeping life. It was a sign that whatever going on wasn't finished yet. If anything, it intensified, bolder. Obake didn't bother to hide the fact that he did stalking Hiro and the rest of Big Hero 6 from wherever he was. It set Hiro and his nerves on edge, while his skin pleasantly prickled with sensation.

 

Meanwhile, many things needed to be analyzed: Obake, his intention, and his affiliation with other villains in San Fransokyo. So, several days later, he gathered the team in Fred's room to discuss about his theories and hopefully figured out how to apprehend the villain. He didn't care if the man in question heard about it. In fact, he was more than welcome to, Hiro was gonna show him Big Hero 6 was a worthy opponent which no one can underestimate. He could almost taste the thrum of chase they were gonna have. All those adrenaline running throughout his veins, the sensation-filled thrills. Oh, how he couldn't wait to feel his heart pounding so hard his ribcage broke.

 

The teen passed around an investigation report he had written before presenting his theories. Suppressing a grin the entire session, masking an inappropriate giddiness behind serious and solemn expression.

 

"You think Obake is affiliated with Globby and Noodle Burger Boy?" Gogo raised an eyebrow. "I get the Noodle Burger Boy part, that Obake dude must be quite a brainer, what with those huge metal boxes and riddles and all, but Globby?"

 

Honey nodded, "I'm not really sure about Globby, too."

 

Hiro made a face and ran a hand through his hair. "I mean, think about it! Why would Globby steal a famous painting? It worth billions so the most logical reason must be money. Where a stolen painting would be sold? The black market. So, I did some investigation and ask some people involved in the black market but no one ever seen the stolen painting on sale. They didn't even know Globby!" Hiro paced back and forth. "And remember how Obake stole Lenore Shimamoto's journal? It is likely he's interested with her and her works. So I theorizes that Obake hired Globby to steal the painting for him!"

 

"Wait-wait-wait, slow down, Hiro." Wasabi rubbed his temples tiredly, like a parent who was unhappy with their child's mischief but too tired and fed up to even deal with it. Hiro was familiar with that, he got plenty of experience from Tadashi and Aunt Cass. When Wasabi raised a finger, the short teen fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, a nice black shirt with two fashionable white stripes on the left. "First of all, you did _what?_ Someone please tell me he didn't venture to the dark side, again."

 

"Wh-what? Of course not," Hiro stammered and nervously laughed, "I m-mean, I was just—you know?" He grinned sheepishly.

 

The four older friends frowned and glared accusingly at Hiro. "No we don't, Hiro," Gogo snapped. "All we knew is that you go to the black market _alone_ and talk to dangerous people!"

 

"I'm not alone! Baymax was always hiding some miles away in his supersuit. If something went wrong, he'll rescue me." Hiro wiped his face frustratedly. Hiro didn't say he asked Jack to come along, didn't say he know several people from that world, didn't say he enjoyed the feeling of risky situation and bloodlust the places gave off.

 

"That didn't validate you going to dangerous places," Honey said. "You can get yourself killed!"

 

"I know! But the point is I made it out alive and got some information! We need--"

 

"--you to know how to keep yourself save," Fred continued. "I love this superhero thing despite the danger. But confronting criminals on the street and going _in_ their lair are two different things! If they knew who you are, Aunt Cass will be in danger."

 

"I was in a disguise. I'm not that stupid. Guys, come on, we have more important issue to discuss. We need to know why Obake is so interested in Shimamoto. I think--"

 

"Well, I think Tadashi would've wanted you to stop doing such dangerously reckless things!" Gogo half-shouted.

 

"Well you guys need to stop using Tadashi to control me!" Hiro yelled and the room fell silent abruptly. The four's face looked ashen, Gogo guiltily looked down. Panting, the young prodigy shook his head. "You know what? Screw this." He took his phone from the table before proceeding to the door.

 

"Hiro, wait!" Honey entreated.

 

"No!" Hiro snapped without looking back at them. He was so furious and it showed on his face. If he turned around, all that would reflected on his eyes was loathing which he would regret later. He fisted both hands on his sides, clenched so tight he could feel his nails tore through the skin. Because if he loosened them, he would punch anyone within reach. Heavily breathing through his nose, he spoke through gritted teeth, "I'm done with this. I won't sit here and let you all control me using Tadashi's name, I'm _sick_ of it. Because unlike you, _Tadashi_ would've listened to what I have to say. Come on, Baymax."

 

Baymax started to follow Hiro. "Where would you like to go?"

 

"Anywhere but here," Hiro spat loudly, making sure they heard every single toxic words he said because he was a jerk and angry and wanted to let them know, in case they hadn't yet, that he was pissed with them. "I don't want to see their face or listen to their preach."

 

With that, he slammed the door strongly.

 

* * *

 

 

The next day, he deactivated Baymax (because he was that despicable of a jerk), lied to Aunt Cass, and skipped school. He didn't want to go and see his friends face. It was petty, and childish, skipping school just because he had an argument with friends. Yet, Hiro didn't care. He could just avoid them at school, but they, Honey in particular, were persistent as hell. He afraid of all the regrettable, painful things that would come out off his mouth if they were engaged in a conversation.

 

Tadashi had been at the other end of Hiro's extreme anger once. Until this very day Hiro regretted what he'd said to his brother. Tadashi cried, Hiro apologized, the older Hamada forgave him because he was that kind of a person. From then on, whenever Hiro was so outraged, Tadashi would leave him alone until the child prodigy was calm enough to talk with reason. Likewise, Hiro also learned how to stay away when his judgment was clouded by rage, so he wouldn't hurt, or break, anyone's heart with his words.

 

So that was what he did: stayed away long enough to abate all hatred caused by blind anger.

 

Throughout the years, Hiro found out the most effective way to wipe away all anger was by walking. It was therapeutic as he got to rethink his life choices and spent away the destructive energy inside of him. So he thought. About Tadashi and the way he handle Hiro's recklessness. Tadashi would be angry, of course, he would scold Hiro for being such a hellion little boy and oh, what would mom and dad say? But when Hiro told him to listen to his reason, he would. He would sit and listen to every single word Hiro had to said, each narrative and ennui.

 

Hiro knew it wasn't fair to compare Tadashi to others, because nothing compared to his big brother. He was too irreplaceable, the last of his kind. Still, Hiro couldn't take people using Tadashi left and right to make him behave. It was an unfair move, guilt tripping wasn't cool no matter what. Sighing, he wondered if he could contact Jack to hang out as he felt slightly hungry and in a need of a good company. He checked the time and date, then realized Jack had work to do. So Hiro bought sandwich from a cafe, ate it on the way.

 

He walked and walked and walked without any destination in mind. Switched his body to autopilot mode and let it took him wherever as he enjoyed his pure white mind. His feet brought him to dingy alleyways, some more vicious than Good Luck Alley. The sun was still shining brightly, yet underworld people were out, whispering illegal deals, planning felonies, or exchanging dirty money with forbidden stuffs. Hiro run into a muscular man in a nice business suit. He looked up, and the man looked down on him.

 

"Watch it, kid." He glared as he patted his billion dollars suit, as if Hiro has left germs on it from a millisecond contact. Hiro stayed silent, wondering what would happen if he spat on the man shiny shoes like an idiot badass wannabe. "What are you glaring at?" The man grabbed Hiro's face with one huge hand, covering the rude glare of the kid, before strongly shoving him to the side, one wrong move and Hiro's neck would be broken. "Fucking kid don't know who he's dealing with." He grumbled as he walked away.

 

Hiro stared at the man's back for a little longer before turning away and proceeding his journey to nowhere. Thus, after two hours, he found himself in a cemetery, the exact place where Tadashi was buried. Hiro laughed once in disbelief as he raked his fingers through his unruly hair. Even after all this time, he still come crawling to big brother's lap when things went awry.

 

Having memorized the direction of Tadashi's grave, he arrived there in less than five minutes. The grave was well kept: the grass were lush and the tomb moss-free. Hiro touched the tomb, traced the engraving of Tadashi's name as he smiled bitter sweetly.

 

"You're gone too fast, big brother." Hiro sighed, "I screwed up. Wish you were here and tell me what to do."

 

"I'd say," a voice said, Hiro snapped his head to the direction of the velvety low baritone, "you should find a better company." Obake smiled wickedly.

 

Hiro's heart skipped a beat, muscles were taut and tense all of a sudden, ready for the battle. "Obake," he hissed, "have you been following me?"

 

"Oh, please, you know I've been following you since the very beginning."

 

"Yeah, with your eyes, pedophile." At the insult, the much older man smirked. Hiro took a step back. "Watching me from afar is one thing but physically stalking me is another. What do you want?"

 

Obake chuckled and took a step forward, "The question is what do _you_ want?"

 

At that, Hiro's heartbeat skyrocketed, taken aback. He swallowed the lump formed in his throat, before opening his mouth again. "I don't know what you're talking about."

 

Obake took another step, "Bollocks."

 

Hiro jerked back in alarm. "D-don't come any closer."

 

"Or what?" Another step forward.

 

Hiro's breath quickened, he stepped backwards again, "Or--" he fished his phone out of his pocket, tapped it to life and swiping the menu, looking for one particular app in mind--"I'll have to beat you up."

 

In one swift motion, Obake was in front of him. One skinny but strong hand circled Hiro's left hand and body while the other hand grasped Hiro's right hand. He glanced at the app Hiro was trying to activate: Nano-Dex. Obake's grip tightened, elicited a pained yelp and caused the boy's grip on his phone loosened. When the gadget fell, Obake kicked it away.

 

They were chest to chest and Hiro was sure the man could feel the vibration of his pounding heart. The thought that Obake knew he was afraid brought a furious blush to his cheeks. Obake, on the other hand, slid the sleeve of Hiro's hoodie lower to see the boy was wearing Nano-Dex t-shirt underneath.

 

Obake flashed a smirk, "You updated the Nano-Dex so it could only be activated through your little app? Impressive."

 

Hiro flushed harder, his body was on fire. "Let go of me!" he grumbled as he bucked his body to no avail. The villain was unexpectedly strong despite being so skinny.

 

Obake leaned closer, lips directly beside Hiro's ear before whispering huskily, "Come with me, Hiro."

 

The way he said Hiro's name made Hiro shuddered. Obake chuckled when he felt the tremble. "What are you--"

 

The villain leaned back, far enough to be eye to eye, close enough to mix their breath. "I know what you want. I know what you _need._ " Obake said, eyes flashing, lips smiling. Hiro felt dizzy and sane and high. "I can give it to you."

 

Hiro stared at the villain, drinking in his promise, wondering and considering what he uttered so confidently and reverently. Heart hammering against his ribcage, Hiro wondered if he ever felt this way before. A mixture of emotion danced within him: anger, confusion, fear, longing, and a primitif hunger. Yet, when he looked at the man's confident smile, he felt furious. How dare someone he barely knew toyed with his feelings.

 

"You don't know shit about me," he spat. And that was true, no one know shit about him. Tadashi was the only one who knew him best, but even him had little to no clue about what Hiro's twisted mind desired. How dare someone he barely knew claimed he knew better than Tadashi. "So don't fucking pretend that you do, you asshole."

 

"Oh but I do," Obake drawled, low and hard. "You love danger, you love thrills." The more he listed, the more Hiro's head spin. The boy's breathing was short and difficult since his pounding heart was at his throat. "You seek near-death experience. You love standing at the edge of life. You stand a breath away before death, provoke, and then cheat him." Hiro trembled as he shook his head, trying to not hear Obake and the encouragement of his traitorous mind which strongly confirm everything the villain said. "You feel-"

 

"NO!" Hiro yelled, struggling harder to break free from Obake's embrace.

 

Obake pulled him back roughly, tightening his embrace. "I can give it to you. I can provide it to you. I will make you _feel._ "

 

Once upon a time, the devil seduce the first woman on earth to eat the fruit of knowledge, one that was forbidden by God. Hiro knew that story. Tadashi read the storybook back when they were six and thirteen. A story of the devil's sweet seduction. _"Do not let bad thoughts affect you, little brother, no matter how tempting it is,"_ Tadashi had said when the story was over.

 

"So come with me." With that, Obake dived in and claimed Hiro's lips with his own. When Hiro gasped in surprise, the man slid a tongue in, tasting the boy like he was a sweet treat. Hiro was stupefied with how the kiss felt and tasted.

 

The kiss overwhelmed him with the sensation and fulfilled the urge. This was war, this was disaster, this was catastrophe, this was the end of the world. They kissed until Hiro was breathless and boneless. They kissed until all Hiro could taste was coffee and the aftertaste of unfamiliar fruity mouthwash. This was the taste of—

 

_"You have to resist it."_

Hiro's mind was back online, pulled him out of his stupor. With a strength he didn't realize he had, he violently shoved the man then punched him in the heat of rage until his face was snapped to the side. Obake stumbled backward while Hiro panted and rubbed his pleasantly tingling lips frantically. The villain stroke his assaulted cheek, looked back at Hiro, smirked, and licked his lips, evoking a furious flush of red on the boy's cheek.

 

"What the hell are you doing, you sick fuck!?" Hiro screamed, almost hysterically. His mind was a mess of emotional earthquake.

 

Obake smiled wickedly. As if the boy hadn't just punch and yell at him, he conversationally said: "I can give you whatever you wanted, Hiro. So come with me." The man turned around gracefully, "You don't have to come right now. Think about it, and once you've reached a decision, you know where to find me." He walked away.

 

Hiro was dazed and confused, angry and ashamed, frightened and defiant, repulsed and excited. He stared at the man's back in disbelief, uncomprehending. Tendrils of black fear began to creep up from his feet, all the way up to his heart. Before they reached his throat and suffocated him, Hiro turned tail and run.

 

* * *

 

He burst into the Lucky Cat cafe; the costumers flinched in surprise before snapping their head to the source, some even glared daggers at him. He noticed Aunt Cass was standing beside a table im which his friends were gathered. They, too, stared at him like he grew second head.

 

Ignoring all of their calls and inquiries, including Aunt Cass' "Hiro, you okay?', he raced to his room, and straight to the bathroom. With badly shaking hands, he frantically looking for Tadashi's minty mouthwash, knocking some toiletries in the process. He washed the inside of his mouth over and over and over, keeping the liquid in his mouth as long as possible, until the inside of his cheeks hurt, until his gums and tongue were stung and numb.

 

Again and again and again until all he could taste was Tadashi.

 

Until he tasted like Tadashi again.

 

Then, he activated Baymax, and dived into his fluffy body before the bot even finishing his usual greeting. Hiro heard the bot said something, asked questions, stated facts about his mental condition, but nothing registered to Hiro's mind.

 

He buried his face deeper, letting Baymax gathered him to the bot's soft arms and coddled him. The ringing in his ears was all that he could hear, along with the mind's rap battle of _that's not true, but oh it's true, I don't love danger, you do like being in trouble, I don't have a death wish, you love thinking of 101 ways to die every day, I don't wanna die, you love the taste of death, NO NO NO NO I DON'T I DON'T I DON'T I DON'T_

Hiro screwed his eyes shut, convincing himself that Obake was wrong.

 

Convincing himself that Obake didn't have what he wanted and needed.

 

Denying how Obake made him _feel._


	2. Starving and Craving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why would I?” Obake leaned closer to Hiro, their breaths mingle and it made Hiro ached with want. COME AND GET ME. “All I want is you.”
> 
> And Hiro surged forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ay! Happy New Year 2019! May all of us have a great year ahead!
> 
> As promised, I'll post (hopefully) once a month, so here's an update! Yay to me!
> 
> Thank's to all of you who read this story and leave kudos, you guys are such a darling.
> 
> And, before you ask, yes, that Sora Karmi mentioned is that Sora from Kingdom Hearts. I ship Sora and Hiro so hard and I have no self control, so that happens. In the early version of this story, the name Karmi mentioned is "Hayden", but then I thought "Why not Sora?" Lol. Still, this isn't a crossover so I don't tag him. *sweats
> 
> Special thanks to Rue and Onna who read this chapter first and encourage me to write and post. I love you guys so much.
> 
> Now, happy reading! And please tell me what you think if you have time.

Starving and Craving

 

Hiro woke with a violent start, eyes wide opened but unseeing, breath short and hard, heart almost burst out of his chest. He had the dream, more vivid than usual. When he felt someone stirred next to him, Hiro tensed. Clenched fists by his sides, ready to pounce whoever was trying to do funny business with him.

"Hiro? You awake?" At his aunt's groggy whispers, he immediately relaxed. He glanced to his side and found her curled beside him, struggled to open his sleepy eyes, and a smile was plastered on her face. Hiro gulped, feeling the inside of his mouth as dry as Sahara desert, and nodded. She smiled wider, "Hey, big boy. You were already asleep by the time I finished up. So I asked Baymax to carry you to my room since I figured you might want some company."

"Sorry," Hiro croaked. Aunt Cass was right, he did need some company. Or rather, he didn't want to be alone. He felt like he was six again; not-so-subtly crawled into Aunty's bed because the Boogeyman was under his bed and the nightmare monster was chasing him to the waking.

She scoffed, "What are you sorry for, silly? Mmhh... What time is it now?" She unwillingly pushed herself to a sitting position, glancing to the bedside table. "Ugh, it thirty minutes to one a.m. Do you wanna eat, sweetie? Well, you have no say in it, actually. You haven't eaten all day, and I have prepared dinner which I loathe to waste, and you have to drink. I didn't prepare one for you. Oops, my bad." She giggled lightly.

Hiro smiled, it was nice to see her smile and giggle like nothing was wrong. If there was something he needed the most, it was a sense of normalcy; like he was normal and didn't have some disturbing tendency or wasn't extraordinarily intelligent. He shifted closer to her and nuzzled his face to her side. She giggled, calling him big baby before proceeding to half-force him out of the bed.

They headed to the kitchen in which Aunt Cass reheated a mouthwatering chicken soup. "I heard it's for the soul," she joked jovially, making him laugh. Halfway through the soup, she tentatively asked: "So... Wanna talk about what happened today—yesterday?"

Hiro looked at her; her graying hair, her warm eyes, the soft lines of age, her contagious smile. She was the mother Hiro had always had. People might say he was a despicable son, but he never thought his biological mother as his mother and didn't feel her loss in the way Tadashi did. He had learned way too early that whenever he cried for Mommy, Aunty was there instead. So his mind quickly concluded that Mommy equaled Aunty. Then, at one point, he cried for Aunty instead of Mommy.

Thus, he felt a tug in his heart, a childish urge to tell her everything in hope she would make things right. He wanted to tell her about everything: the encounter with Obake, his twisted drive, his disturbing dreams, everything.

"Aunt Cass..," he called, voice barely audible. He tried, choosing his every words, braced himself for the outcome of his confession. That stopped him. The outcome. In his mind, he saw Aunt Cass, crying alone in her room after Tadashi's funeral. He swallowed back every words he was about to say. "... I don't wanna go to school," Hiro said instead. Aunt Cass looked down, so he hastily added: "Just for a day."

She forced a lopsided smile as she looked up and sighed dejectedly, "Okay."

 

* * *

 

Hiro stayed in his room all day, determined to show Obake that he wasn't the kind of teen the man thought he was. He didn't actively look for danger; he liked to stay at home, in the safety of his room like the hermit he was. Yet, staying still in his room and vegetating on his bed only made the whispers in his head grew louder and louder, conveying disappointment and how boring it was to stay still, moaning mournfully for gut-wrenching sensation, seducing him to just _a little bit, let's take the motorcycle and ride it around the city, let's go bot-fighting and destroy those pussy bots into pulps._  

Those whispers made him restless and fidgety. The monster was restlessly crawled underneath his skin, clawing to break free and take control. It made his skin itched. Hiro scratched his skin with his slightly long nails until they left angry red streaks and Baymax insisted on cutting his nails.

He tried to distract himself: working on assignments ahead of time, writing the hatefully boring reports, revisiting his inventions and adding more upgrades, texting Karmi for information about homework (and earning a picture of her middle finger above the information of assignments). Yet, when there was nothing left to do, he noticed it was still thirty minutes till lunchtime. He groaned and fell face first to his bed, scratching the back of his neck when he felt Obake's eyes on him, sensing the sneer on the gaze.

Not long after, he heard footsteps heading his room, taking two steps at a time: Jack. The footsteps grew closer and his bed dipped. A cold hand engulfed his exposed nape before the older teen spoke, "You alright, man?"

"Why are you here?" Hiro huffed and turned his head to see Jack smiled lopsidedly at him.

Baymax was standing in front of the divider, observing the young man curiously and blinked. When Hiro heard the blink, he pushed his body a bit in alarm, "Baymax! Don't scan—“

"Scan complete." The healthcare companion ignored Hiro and proceeded to inform Jack about his shameful secret:  his illness, his mental health, saying things about malnutrition and underweight, about the risks and consequences, about recommended treatment and lists of capable psychologist. "Would you like me to be of assistance or would you like me to recommend you to a psychologist?"

Jack bristled, "Shut him the fuck up," he growled.

Hiro sat up cross-legged behind Jack, put a hand on one bony shoulder and squeezed gently. "Baymax," Hiro reprimanded softly, "just be quiet, alright? We got this under control." Baymax blinked and obliged. After all, Hiro was his primary patient. Satisfied, Hiro pulled Jack a little so he would twist his body a little to look at Hiro. "Why are you here?"

The guy rolled his eyes, "You texted me, remember? Saying you were bored to death. Why aren't you at school?"

"I texted you at seven, you dingus."

"Well, I'm here." He shrugged and looked away, "So what's up? Your aunt seems real worried about you, telling me to talk and cheer you up."

Hiro sighed tiredly and put his head on Jack's shoulder. "Do you think... a forced kiss count as a sexual harassment?"

Hiro felt Jack turned his head, feeling the huff of his breath ruffled the black tufts. "Are you suing me?" he asked, scandalized.

"Do you want me to?" the young prodigy growled, annoyed.

"No," he said. When the younger boy didn't say anything, Jack continued, "You're a genius, so of course you know it's a sexual harassment. What stopping you from reporting that person?"

That made Hiro lifted his head from Jack's bony shoulder. Blue met brown and Hiro thought of the difference between Jack's blue eyes and Obake's. The latter one's was _intense,_ searing and freezing his skin all at once, blue fire of contempt and cruelty. Jack's was comfortable cool wind in summer, an exciting storm of mischief and fun, a minty ice cream that threatened you with sore throat yet pleased your taste bud.

Hiro knew, with certainty, that Jack was much more trustworthy than Obake. "That person said they know what I wanted and needed, said they could provide it."

Something flashed in Jack's eyes. Hiro looked away guiltily. Since he was brilliant in reading Hiro, Jack heard what was left unsaid. _He could provide what I need better, he could give so much more._ Knowing Jack, his mind probably exaggerated it to: _you're useless from the start, Hiro stayed because he pities your pathetic attempt to satisfy him in order to get what you want._ Hiro wanted to say something to soothe Jack, to tell the guy Hiro liked him more than enough. However the white-haired teen loathed to be seem weak, soothing him would only made him defensive and angry. So the younger teen shut his mouth, hoping Jack decided not to be an idiot for once in their ambiguous relationship.

They fell silent for a minute before Jack said, "He did?"

Taken aback, all Hiro could say was: "What makes you think it's a man?"

"You think I didn't notice the way you looked at your brother?"

"FUCK!" Hiro threw his hands up, frustrated. Rage overwhelmed him, he lunged forward to push the laughing white-haired teen off his bed. Jack, despite being skinny, was ridiculously strong. He easily caught Hiro's hand, shoved the fuming short teen down until he fell on his back with an 'oof'.

"Okay, okay, sorry." Jack giggled as he scooted higher on the bed, straightened his legs and leaned on the window. Hiro followed suit, scrambled up beside Jack, glared at the guy's boots. Jack rolled his eyes and started to take off his boots. "So, what's the matter? Why didn't you take his offer?"

 _Why didn't you pick the better option?_ wasn't uttered but not unheard. Hiro sobered, "Jack, you—“

"I am degrading myself internally, yes, I know, no need to inform me. I know this is just my mind being a jerk. I won't believe it if you kiss me. So, what stopped you?"

Hiro smiled a little, leaned in and pecked his neck, right on his pulse, feeling it fluttering for a moment. He rested his head on the bony shoulder again, sighed, before saying, "He's different from you."

Jack was good fun, safe suspense and thrill. He knew how to make Hiro's pulse raced: take him places overflowed with bad omen, engage him in gut-wrenching activities, drugs and alcohol and underage snogging sessions. But he knew the boundaries, knew when to stop, when things got too much, knew when to pull Hiro out before things went south. Jack knew how to satisfy Hiro just enough without killing said boy or putting him in harm’s way.

Obake, on the other hand was danger and hazard. His mere presence foreboded peril, being involved with him highly guaranteed death. Standing before the man was standing right on the very edge of an endless abyss. If Jack was A-rank haunted house, Obake was battlefield, field of landmines, warzone.

A pause, "Why didn't you take his offer?"

Hiro screwed his eyes shut. Damn Jack and his ability to read him to hell and back. “Forget it.” He slid down, turned away to lie on his side. "I don't wanna talk about this anymore. I wanna sleep."

"What? Not fair!" Jack turned Hiro to his back, "You said you will help me eat!"

"Baymax can do that." Hiro deadpanned.

"I am capable to help you eat."

"Hiroo..." Jack whined, slid down next to Hiro then clung to him, "I know robots get you all hot and bothered but I don't swing that way."

Hiro kicked him off the bed. Groaning in reluctant resignation, he lazily dragged his body out of the bed and followed Jack downstairs. The rest of the afternoon was spent helping Jack finished his fried rice, coaxing him to chew and swallow a mouthful by touching his still hollow belly reverently, kissing the corner of his lips or his upper arm, sweetly whispering compliment regarding his good looks and sexiness.

Once in a while, Hiro heard footsteps and tensed. He would surreptitiously glance over his shoulder, afraid Aunt Cass would catch him kissing a boy five years older than him. Still, he didn't suggest Jack to go upstairs in order to decrease the probability of getting caught. Jack, understood what went on in that genius brain, dragged him upstairs after cleaning the dishes. He threw Hiro onto his bed, climbed after him and kissed the boy senseless, letting Baymax witnessing everything.

Hiro should deactivate Baymax, should stop him from recording whatever he did with Jack, should prevent any chances of people finding out the recording by making sure it never existed in the first place. Yet, the thought of Baymax watching him, recording whatever he did, of the risk that would befall him should the video leaked, sent delightful shivers down his spine, engulfed him in pleasant sensation.

Plus, he knew, oh he did know, Obake was watching him.

 

* * *

 

That night, Hiro found it, deep in his cargo pants' back pocket: a piece of paper with a series of numbers and some alphabet inscribed on it. A coordinate. 

_"You know where to find me."_

Hiro trembled, pulse quickened alarmingly, breath rugged and hard, ears ringing.

_YES YES YES YES YES_

_no no no no nonononono_

_"You have to resist it."_

Hiro crawled under Aunt Cass' blanket again, playing the role of a frightened child begging to be comforted and coddled.

As he tried to suppress the grin that threatened to bloom on his face.

As he tried to convince himself that the tremble was out of fear not out of exhilaration.

 

* * *

 

After the episode he exhibited last night, Aunt Cass suggested for him to take another day off. Hiro agreed at first, thinking the watchful eyes would grew bored if he acted like a safe kid who loves their safety, thinking Obake would lose interest in him that way. 

However, playing domestic only resulted in irritation and restlessness. He couldn't sleep (he stayed awake for most of the night under Aunt Cass’ blanket, tossing and turning, and only slept for three hours), he was jittery, his skin itched, and he kept on biting his already short nails in order to keep his eroded mind intact. The more he stayed in his room, the more claustrophobic he felt. The once cozy bedroom felt like prison and Hiro just have to break free and _do something for fuck's sake._

Thus, after too peaceful lunch, in which even the sound of utensils against plates grated Hiro's patience thinner, he decided to attend his afternoon classes. He headed to school on feet as he couldn't take sitting around and stayed dormant for a second longer. He was sure he would combust if he had to storage the overflowing energy a little longer. He walked, and walked, and walked, letting the bottled up energy to be spent by his power walking. At the same time, he sensed someone was watching him from somewhere unknown.

When he stopped at a red light, impatiently waiting to be able to cross the road with the throng of strangers, he looked all around him. He saw students talking to one another, he saw mothers holding hands with their children, he saw fathers in crisp suit talking on the phone with their business partners. He saw people going on their peaceful life in this serene city and it was all so hatefully tranquil and Hiro was suddenly angry. Because he felt like he was lied to and he shouldn’t feel that way. He shouldn’t _expect_ anything.

The light turned green, Hiro gritted his teeth in fury as he stormed through the crowd, shoving anyone who’s on his way, ignoring their angry shouts at him. _Don’t make promises you can’t keep, you asshole._ He thought, then obliterated the thought (and the disappointment he would deny to the end of the world) as soon as it came.

The watchful eyes continued to follow his journey to the school yard, even when he entered the building and navigated through the maze of hallways. As he walked, the feeling of someone was watching him increased, intensified to the point he could feel it caressing his skin. The almost-touch infuriated him, and his impatience running thin. Now, he felt someone followed him, matched his footsteps perfectly and he tried to ignore the _Come and Get Me_ chorus on the back of his mind to no avail.

_"I know what you need."_

Hiro thought about high school bullies in the backyard, shoving him to the walls so strongly his skull hit the bricks, causing stars to explode behind his eyelids. He thought about the sensation and the urge as he ferociously smashed the dolls on the whack-a-mole game in the arcade afterwards. Then, Hiro remembered Obake: his smirk and poisonous velvety voice.

_"I can give it to you."_

Turning to the right, he felt the footsteps were getting closer and closer and the scream of _yes yes yes_ was ringing obnoxiously in his ear. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, signaling something was reaching out. The memory of striking pale blue eyes and slender but strong hands embracing him flashed before his eyes. Hiro dodged slightly to the left, caught the hand as he turned to face the stalker, ready to—

It was Fred. Hiro halted. "Whoa, easy there, little guy." The older guy grimaced when Hiro didn't let go of his hands. "I saw you walk so fast I thought you wanted to go to the restroom but you went to a different direction from the loo. So I followed you to see what's up."

"Oh..." Hiro said, panting like he was just running marathon, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. _What did he expect?_ He tried to control his breathing. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.

"Uh..." Fred's feature was painted with concern and a slight hint of fear, "Could you not look at me like that?"

Hiro stared at the son of a millionaire, "Like what?"

"Like you gonna kill me or something." Fred shrugged. It looked more like a flinch.

Hiro stared for a while, registering what Fred's said. _What?_ He turned on his heels and ran away. Fred yelled after him, Hiro couldn't hear him beyond the clamor of _not enough not enough not enough._ Hiro kept running until he reached the classroom, almost busted the door opened, hastily walked to the very back seat, and slumped down, panting and sweating and blushing furiously. _What did he expect?_

This needed to stop. The ridiculous cravings for the sensation and the stubborn desire to fulfill the urge needed to stop. It wasn't normal, it wasn't right. Hiro created a nest from his hands and buried his head on it as he tried to suppress all of those abnormalities to the depth of his unconsciousness.

 

* * *

 

Hiro attended all of his classes that day, but avoiding all of his friends with all his might. He didn’t go to his lab, because it meant he would have to pass through his friends’ labs. He didn’t want to go home yet, dreading the questions Aunt Cass would attempt to ask, and fearing the probability of Obake showing up again. Thus, he hung out in Karmi’s lab, much to the older girl’s dismay. 

“What, did your boyfriend break up with you?” she asked after he ignored all insults threw at him.

Hiro gave her an annoyed glare, “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

She snorted. “Yeah right. That white-haired punk who kissed you in Ito Ishioka building isn’t your boyfriend. I’m sure he’s just your smooch buddies.”

So someone did see them that night, Hiro thought absentmindedly, strangely pleased with this sudden discovery. “Smooch buddies? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, you know, the platonic version of friends with benefits. You don’t have sex but constantly having steamy make out sessions.”

Hiro absentmindedly thought about it. Smooch buddies. So there’s a term for what Jack and he were doing behind the metaphoric closed doors. Metaphoric, because they weren’t really try to be secretive about it and Karmi already knew, so who’s to say no one else knew. Then again, it meant they were the platonic version of friends with benefits. It meant, Hiro was using Jack and Jack was using Hiro. While it wasn’t completely wrong—Jack even confirmed that’s what friends are for—it still made him sad and guilty.

 

When Hiro continued his contemplative silence, Karmi sighed, seemingly misunderstood his silence as sadness. “Look, just go back to your boyfriend if you still love him. Or, you can move on and go out on dates. Presumably with Sora, because he’s so obviously in love with you. Heck, I bet he would be over the moon if you made him your smooch buddies.”

“Who’s Sora?”

Karmi gasped, took her eyes off whatever deadly virus she was studying, and stared at Hiro as if he had done some serious sin. “Are you kidding me? He sits next to you in Basic Programming class, and everyone who’s not an idiot could see he’s so in love with you.” When Hiro kept giving her a blank look, she wrinkled her nose. “Go home, Hamada. You disgust me.”

Hiro stood up and snorted, “That makes two of us.”

 

 

* * *

 

Hiro kept his pretence as a domesticated teenager for several days. He started to talk with the gang again and things seemingly went to normal, although he refused to go to night patrol. Unsurprisingly, his friends associated his lack of enthusiasm for adrenaline with the episode they saw in Lucky Cat cafe, one-sidedly assuming Hiro run into some kind of real danger when he wasn’t protected with his highly enhanced supersuit or Baymax or his scientifically enhanced friends. He almost begged to differ when Fred tried to imply their deduction but bit his tongue. Let them thought whatever they wanted, it was easier that way, anyway. 

On the other hand, the improve on his mood made Karmi thought Hiro was getting back together with Jack. While she wasn’t completely wrong, she wasn’t completely right either. Jack and Hiro had never ‘broken up’, but it was true the white-haired teen started to distance himself after he knew someone offered Hiro something he couldn’t.

 

For two days, Jack was absent from his life, and in that two days Hiro was almost going crazy from how sensation-deprived he was. He couldn’t go outside riding Baymax and pulling acrobatic stunts like a mad man in fear of confirming whatever Obake’s accusation of him. He _needed_ Jack. He needs the way the older boy made him feel: like he was in the middle of botfight arena and the police suddenly surround the place so he needed to run for his life, like he was in a burning building and the only way out was jumping out of the window. 

Thus, after two days scratching his skin raw and bit his nails until they bled, Hiro went to his house and kissed the daylight out of him the moment the door was opened. His sister wasn’t home so he spent the night making out with Jack, helping him to eat, and talking about nothing and everything all at once.

 

“She called us smooch buddies,” Hiro said when Jack finally let him breathe. They were supposed to watch Toy Story as they have dinner (Aunt Cass’ special sandwiches he stole from the café), but Jack started to push Hiro down the sofa, and Hiro started to talk about trivial things and end up telling him about Karmi.

“That sounds cute,” he said in between their kisses. “I can live with that. Sounds so much more adorable than friends with benefits.”

“How is it any different?” Hiro sighed contentedly when Jack stopped kissing him and lied on top of him, instead.

“Because the ‘benefit’ makes it seem like we don’t care about each other, that we only care about what the other can give us, only care about their _use,”_ Jack said the last word as if it was poisonous. “But the ‘buddies’ make it seem like we’re genuine friends who care about each other and like to kiss each other. I like it better that way.”

Hiro snorted, “Sap,” he commented.

“You love me, anyway,” Jack replied as he snuggled more comfortably on top of the younger of the two. “Don’t you?”

Hiro heard it, the _can we be like this forever?_ And the concept of forever baffled him, because what was forever, anyway? Both of them had experienced mortality in the most morbid way possible, something they never shared even between the two of them. So, forever was, at most, an illusion. Besides, which forever did Jack mean? Being friends, keeping in touch, long-life acquaintance forever? Or the let’s be smooch buddies forever? The former one was somewhat easy. They had proven that falling out of touch didn’t make falling back in touch difficult for them.

But what about the latter one, about being smooch buddies? How long could they be friends and make out regularly? Despite being way more mature than his actual age, Hiro understood his body was still young, way too young to be involved in whatever lewd activities he knew Jack occasionally did. Sure, the older boy never forced Hiro into anything more. Sure, Jack got hard once in a while when things got steamier than usual and Hiro accidentally let out noises he didn’t know has so much effect on the older guy. But Jack never forced Hiro to do anything about it, didn’t even grind against him. He hovered above the younger boy until he calmed down, or he would just abruptly leave to the bathroom and finished his business. But how long it would last?

“Stop thinking,” Jack murmured sleepily, placed a kiss on Hiro’s collarbone. “Don’t think about the future or the past, just think about today, about here.”

“I thought you’re gonna cut me off forever.” It came out like he was accusing Jack. _Don’t talk about forever if you’re the one who almost take that forever away._

Jack kept silent, but Hiro knew his eyes were open, seeing everything and nothing. “I need to know if you still want me.” He inhaled deeply, as if trying to inhale Hiro’s very essence into him. “And you do. And that’s all that matters to me.”

Hiro willed his body to remain pliant, because any hint of rigidness would give the guilt he felt away. Because that was the problem, wasn’t it? Hiro wanted Jack, but not like before, not like when Jack was the only person who understood about his needs, when Jack was the only one who _made him feel._

He closed his eyes and repressed the guilt into the back of his consciousness, letting it linger there as a reminder but not consuming him.

He slept and woke up and denied the fact he dreamed about Obake and the way the villain _made him feel._

 

* * *

 

Hiro was still absent from the superhero business. Thankfully, the city was peaceful nowadays with some small cases of villainy here and there, nothing Big Hero 4 couldn’t take care of. His friends let him be, still thinking Hiro was shaken by whatever bad experience he faced a week ago, and trying their best to be the best support they can be. 

Obake was still _watching_ and still _didn’t do a damn thing_.

And Hiro’s visit to Jack increased, his kisses got hungrier (desperate) and demanding, impatient, and bolder. He kissed the older guy wherever, no matter how pubic the place was, no matter how high the probability of someone from SFIT saw them locking lips on the sidewalk. The boldness amused Jack, probably assuming Hiro enjoyed the rush he felt when the risk of getting caught was so high. And it was true, Hiro did crave for the sensation of almost getting caught. Not that getting caught terrified him, because what were they gonna do about it? But the thrill of being too young to be locking lips with someone five years his senior was so intoxicating.

But still, it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t enough, _IT WASN’T ENOUGH._

So one night, after the chorus of _not enough not enough not enough_ turned into a clamorous rock concert of _IT’S NOT FUCKING ENOUGH,_ which was just too loud to ignore, too harmful for his already dwindling sanity, Hiro thought _fuck it_ , grabbed his roller-skates and bolted out the café like death was hot on his heels.

Hiro zapped through the streets at a speed that would impress GoGo. He remembered the tricks he learned back in highschool, recalled the map of San Fransokyo in his mind, and traced the alleys and shortcuts he used to pass through when he was twelve. Once he saw the familiar narrow and dark alley, Hiro made a sharp turn, earned an indignant yell from faceless human.

This alley were an entrance to a dizzying maze that Hiro had explored and memorized since he was eleven and mastered by the time he was twelve. The streets were muddy and slippery, one mistake and Hiro would crashed to the ground, broke an ankle, scrapped his knees and elbows since he didn't use any protection gear, cracked his skull open if his head hit the edge of a wall when failing to swerve sharply. The teen raced and raced and raced, impulsively making turns without any destination in mind, as he was imagining accidents and calculating risks.

He saw an opening leading to boulevard with zebra cross, the traffic light indicated six seconds to red. Hiro's mind shut down, body driven by the sensation, ears deaf by the clamorous screech of _yes yes YES!_ He sped up to the opening, 5... 4... 3...., broke free, zigzagged between the crowds, 2...

Hiro advanced forward, his dreams of collision and explosion flashed before his eyes...

1...

Tadashi was across the street, frowning...

"STOP!"

Hiro skidded to a halt, a car zapped right in front of him, the driver honked furiously. Mind was coming back online, he snapped back to reality. Sounds invaded his ears: people murmured about crazy kid with death wish, mothers scolded him for being a reckless teenager, his heartbeat thundered, and the crazed chorus of _FASTER FASTER FASTER!_

Hiro blinked, eyes locked on the street across. The ghost of Tadashi was still there, frowning at him, disappointed. Hiro covered his eyes with the heels of his hands, gritted his teeth, then endeavored to tune down the chorus and ignore the sensation which hugged his entire being.

 _“You stand a breath away before death,”_ Obake had said two weeks ago, _“then cheat him.”_

Hiro took a u-turn, then bolted to the direction he had memorized.

 

* * *

 

The coordinate Obake gave him turned out to be a middle class apartment, an hour away from Lucky Cat Café. The place was somewhat secluded and almost deserted since it was quite far from the office area and public transportation didn’t really reach this place. Yet, the neighbourhood was decent. _What a great hiding place,_ Hiro thought; Far enough from the heart of the city to guarantee seclusion, but decent enough to avoid suspicion. 

Heart hammering against his ribcage, sweats like a bucket of ice cold water against his blazing skin, Hiro entered the lobby. He remembered every single detail of the man’s location. He was on the fifth floor, apartment number 510. As though he was enthralled, the trip to said apartment was a blur. At one point, he wasn’t sure when, he discarded his roller skates, then proceeded his trip upstairs barefooted. All of a sudden, he was in front of the gate to hell.

And he knocked

On the devil’s door.

No one answered. Hiro tried the doorknob to find it not locked.

He swung the door opened, and there he was: _Obake._

The door slammed shut behind him.

Obake was there, standing ten steps away from Hiro, face absent of any emotion, but eyes never left Hiro’s.

Hiro was back again on the battlefield, where there was a field landmine between him and the Garden of Eden with the tree of forbidden fruit in the middle.

And Hiro wanted a taste so badly.

“Welcome, Hiro,” Obake said, voice pleasant and welcoming, but eyes still searching and scrutinizing.

“I—“ Hiro wanted to say something. But he had no idea what.

“You make the right the decision.” Obake said, reading Hiro’s mind and it made him angry.

“No, I’m fucking not,” he spat. Angrily, not hatefully. Angry at himself, at his weakness, at his inability to think like a normal person. Most importantly, at his eagerness to close the distance between them and bite into the flesh of the forbidden fruit, taste the sweetness and drink the juicy sin. The want was so powerful it took every ounce of his withering will to stay immobile.

Obake kept quiet, and Hiro was thankful for it. He hesitated as he broke the eye contact and glanced to his feet, thinking of making a u-turn and just escaped. Away from the temptation, resist the seduction, keep himself safe from any sin. He twitched to the side, ready to bolt, but he noticed the man before him was also ready to go after him if he made a move.

Hiro thought of his friends, thought of Aunt Cass, thought of Tadashi and felt a surge of guilt like a tsunami wave.

Then, he remembered Jack and what he said several nights ago. _“…just think about today, about here.”_

“I’m not going to stay,” Hiro said, taking a step forward, into the landmines field of bad choices, stepping on one mine and let it exploded.

“I’m not asking you to.” Was Obake’s answer.

“I won’t side with you.” Another step. Another explosion.

“I won’t try to make you.”

“You’re not allowed to do any funny business to my family or my friends or my friends’ families.” Step, and step, and step, and step, letting the mines of bad choices exploded into beautiful fireworks of mayhem, until he was a step away from the man.

Obake was looking down at him and Hiro looked back defiantly, because he didn’t want the man to think he had an advantage on Hiro. He wanted the man to understand that if tried to do _anything_ , Hiro would retaliate in the worst way imaginable. They were on equal ground here. Just because Hiro agreed to meet him, agreed to take whatever Obake had to offer, it didn’t mean he would be on the man’s every beck and call. Hiro wasn’t to be controlled and Obake wasn’t to be either. He needed the man to understand that: he had freewill and he would use that damn freewill whenever he fucking felt like it.

“Why would I?” He leaned closer to Hiro, their breaths mingle and it made Hiro ached with want. _COME AND GET ME_. “All I want is you.”

And Hiro surged forward.

Obake kissed Hiro, rough and bruising, and Hiro shuddered in delight. The man growled lowly, pulled Hiro impossibly closer, one hand circled his thin waist, the other was painfully tangled in his unruly hair and every tug sent sparks of pleasure down his spine, electrocuted him to his very fingertips.

The man licked Hiro's lips and forced a tongue in. He tasted like mistake and regret and danger and anything forbidden and Hiro loved it. He tasted like Hiro's dreams of the car crash, near-death experience, and cheating death. He tasted like everything Hiro _craved_ and _needed._

Obake tasted like death and Hiro felt so _fucking alive._

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise there'll be a lot Obake/Hiro encounter in the next chapters. Cross my heart and hope to die.
> 
> Until next chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :)  
> Tell me what you think, please~


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